Baby the Red-Nosed Impala
by Eileen
Summary: Let the Winchester Decorating War begin! A little silliness for the holidays.


Castiel was sitting quietly and enjoying a cup of coffee when Dean came tearing in from the garage.

"Where is he?" he demanded.

Cas put down the mug. "Who?"

"You know who! My brother! Where is he?"

"He left on an errand. Why?"

"Why?" Dean's face was crimson with rage. "Go take a look at what he did to my car!"

Oh, no. Dean was very protective of his "Baby," and if Sam had scratched it, or worse, put a dent somewhere obvious . . .

Cas got up and went to look at the damage. The sight that met his eyes, however, was hardly one to rage over. He turned and went back inside.

"He decorated it for Christmas," he observed.

"He put **antlers** and a **red nose** on my **car**!" Dean threw his hands into the air. "Without telling me!"

"That would have ruined the surprise."

Dean turned on the angel with surprising ferocity. "You knew about this? You **knew**?"

Cas sighed. "Sam mentioned that he had a surprise for you, but he wouldn't tell me what it was. I like it. It looks . . . festive."

"He didn't **ask** me!"

"Ask you what?" Sam was just coming down the stairs, in from wherever he had gone. Dean came stomping over to the bottom of the stairs.

"You made my car look like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer!"

"Yeah, so?"

"So? What do you mean, 'so'? So, you messed up my car!"

"It looks cute!"

"Cute! Baby is not supposed to look cute! She's supposed to be badass!"

"All right, stop it!" Cas stepped between them. "Dean, Sam was trying to do something nice for you to celebrate the season. Can't you accept it in the spirit in which it was meant?"

"He messed with my **car** , Cas! Nobody messes with my car!"

"I didn't mess with it! I decorated it! The stuff will come right off! Won't even leave a mark."

"You'd better hope so. Cause you're not ridin' in that car till it's gone."

"Seriously?"

"You respect my girl!"

"Your **girl**?" Sam rolled his eyes. "It's no different from you wearing a Christmas sweater."

"That ain't happening, either. I don't do ugly sweaters."

"Well, that's too bad, cause . . . that's kinda the theme of the Christmas party. Everyone's wearing one."

"Even Bobby?"

"We'll make him."

"Well, I'm not wearin' one. And get that crap off my car now!" He went up the stairs just as Sam reached the bottom, and slammed the door on his way out.

"Unbelievable." Sam sat down at the table across from where Cas had been sitting. "It's not like I welded the damn antlers on! But no, I touch his car and suddenly I'm Public Enemy Number One! Hey, any more of that coffee?"

"I just made a fresh pot. I'll get you a cup." Cas started for the kitchen, but Sam got up and beat him there.

"No, I'll get it. You have any idea what's going on?"

"Well, let me see." Cas glanced up briefly, as if seeking answers from Heaven. "Michael's still on the loose, and we don't know where he is. Heaven is dangerously close to falling and sending billions of human souls back to Earth as vengeful spirits. Jack isn't doing well, Lucifer's former vessel is still out there and we have no idea what he's up to. Oh, and your mother appears to be shacking up with Bobby. Does that cover everything?"

"Yeah, I think so." Sam took a sip of his coffee. "Do you think I should take the stuff off the car?"

"I think if you don't, he will, and he won't be happy about it."

"I don't get it. Dean usually loves Christmas. Every year when we were growing up, he always made sure I had something for Christmas, even if it was just a pack of gum. And now that we can finally have a real Christmas with a tree and everything, now he decides to be a Grinch? What's up with that?"

"I have no idea."

* * *

Things escalated very quickly.

Sam and Jack got up very early the next morning and strung tiny flashing lights all around the door to Dean's room. When he opened the door, they also played "Jingle Bells."

Dean retaliated by adding red and green food coloring to a batch of cookies that Sam was baking for the party. Sounds festive enough-if he added them separately, after the dough was separated. Mixing red and green together in the raw dough, unfortunately, produced a thoroughly unappetizing black color.

"They're _Nightmare Before Christmas_ cookies," Dean said, when Sam inquired as to why his cookies now seemed more appropriate for a Halloween party. "You love that movie."

"No one's gonna want to eat black cookies!"

"Don't put musical lights around my door."

Sam, despite Cas' pleas to "just talk to your brother before this goes any further," strung fuzzy gold Christmas garland all around Baby's back window. Dean noticed it by accident when he was backing out of a parking space, and almost hit a light pole. He came home and used a Sharpie to draw mustaches and beards on all the construction-paper angels decorating the Common Room.

Jack topped Baby's aerial with a blinking red Christmas bulb.

Finally, Dean had had enough. He called a house meeting the morning of the party, which, because the other hunters hadn't returned yet, was just Dean, Sam, Cas, and Jack in the library with a plate of black cookies and lukewarm hot chocolate.

"All right, that's it! I want all the Christmas crap **off** my car right now! And if any more goes up-who's humming? I can hear you humming!"

Sam tried to look innocent.

"I am **not** being a Grinch!"

"Then what's your problem?"

"I don't want you messing with my car! Is that too much to ask?"

"We, um . . . we thought it would look nice when we go to pick up the tree," said Sam sheepishly.

"What tree?"

"The tree we ordered from the farm up the road. We have to bring Baby because no other car is big enough to support an eight-foot tree. We were gonna surprise you."

"We've never had a real Christmas tree before," said Dean in a small voice.

"Well, we're having one this year. I thought it was time. We've got the space, we've got plenty of decorations-"

"You went through them and made sure they're okay?"

Sam nodded. "They're fine. We put the cursed ones in a separate box last year, remember?"

Jack looked at him strangely. "Cursed ones? Who'd want to curse Christmas ornaments?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised, kid," said Dean. "Just don't even touch any box with a black X on it, and we're good."

"So does this mean you're coming to the party after all?"

Dean thought about it. "All I want for Christmas," he said, "is for my family to be together. Just celebrating the fact that we made it through another year, that we're all here and we're still fighting. We don't need lights or ornaments or cookies or eight-foot Christmas trees for that. Just each other."

"Group hug!" Jack exclaimed, and reached out to drag all three of his dads into his embrace. Sam returned the hug immediately. Cas stiffened at first, but then relaxed and joined in. After a moment when he decided he must be nuts, Dean said what the hell and completed the circle.

When they broke apart, he said, "I still want that stuff off my car! Christmas or no Christmas, you don't mess with my Baby!"

"I'll put it on my truck," Cas offered. "Will that do?"

"Yeah, sure. **All** the stuff. I mean it! The antlers, the lights, that fuzzy gold thing that blocked my back window-"

"The tape must have come off," said Sam. "Sorry."

"And the bulb?" asked Jack. "The bulb on the aerial? It looks so nice!"

Dean wanted to say no, but one look at the kid's face made him change his mind. "Fine, the bulb can stay. But the lights around my door have to come down!"

Sam checked his watch. "Okay, we've got two and a half hours to get the place cleaned up for the party. That includes taking the lights down from around your door. We'll move them to the room where the party is taking place."

"And you won't put anything else up on my door?"

"Nope."

"You promise?"

"I solemnly swear that neither I nor anyone else here will put any decorations, lights, cutouts, or Christmas-themed items on or around the door to your room. That good enough for you?"

"That's fine. I'll make the punch."

"Don't put too much brandy in it! We want everyone to be happy, not totally wasted!"

"Whatever."

* * *

Everything was ready. The tree was up and decorated, right down to the star on top (which Sam had had to put up because no one else could reach the top of an eight-foot tree). The lights were lit, the punch was made and very lightly spiked, and the sausage rolls were in the oven heating up.

"Okay, Cas!" Dean called out. "Let's see your ugly sweater!"

"I refuse to wear this atrocity," the angel replied.

"C'mon, we're all wearing ours!" Dean had finally let himself be coaxed into a red and green sweater with a picture of a squirrel and NUTS ABOUT CHRISTMAS on it. Sam's had a moose and MERRY CHRISTMOOSE. Even Jack was getting into the spirit with a sweater that had Snoopy dressed as Santa.

"Where did you find something this offensive?"

"Hot Topic," Dean told him.

Cas came out and grumpily stood before them. In place of his usual suit and trench coat was a sweater with a picture of Jesus in a party hat and BIRTHDAY BOY underneath. "Rabbi Yeshua would be appalled at this. Besides, it's not even his actual birthday."

"Everyone knows that," said Sam. "It's just for fun."

"If you take a picture of me in this-"

"I promise we won't take any pictures of you in your appalling atrocity of an ugly sweater," said Dean with a twinkle in his eye.

"I had nothing to do with the stuff on your car, you know."

"Yeah, I know. This isn't retaliation. It's a party! You're supposed to have a good time."

There were voices in the outer chambers as the other guests began arriving. Sam went to greet them while Dean and Cas lifted the punch bowl into place.

"There's black smoke coming from the kitchen," Jack reported. "What should I do?"

Dean nearly dropped the punch bowl. "Oh, crap, the sausage rolls!" He rushed in and saved them before they were burnt beyond recognition. "Oh, well, they're . . . crispy? No one will notice, will they?"

And a good time was had by all.

There were prizes (little stocking-stuffer-type things) for the best sweaters. Cas came second in Best Concept, losing out to Charlie's _Game of Thrones_ /Santa crossover ("Brace Your Elves; Christmas is Coming"). Bobby won for Most Colorful, in a green sweater with a light-up sleigh and blinking reindeer ("I feel like a damn used car lot in this thing."). Maggie's Mrs. Claus sweater dress won for Cutest.

Nobody minded that the sausage rolls were a little well-done, or that the punch was missing its usual kick. Everyone had fun and the party went on until the wee small hours of the morning.

At around two a. m., Dean yawned and stretched. "Must be gettin' old," he said. "I'll see you guys in the morning." And he headed off to bed.

Sam turned to Jack, who was helping clean up. "You did take down the stuff in his room, didn't you?"

The boy looked confused. "You said the lights around the door. You didn't say anything about the stuff **inside** the room."

"So you left the-"

"Yeah."

"The **what**?" Cas demanded. "What did you do?"

There was a distant bang and a scream. Then Dean reappeared, covered from head to toe in red and green confetti.

 **"** **SAM!"**


End file.
